My First Real Friend
by SpiritWolf21
Summary: After speaking to an old friend of mine, I realised that a lot of people meet long lasting friends in different ways so I decided to write how I met my friend that I consider to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I hope when people read this that it will remind them how they met their first real friend and I truly hope that that will bring a smile to whoevers reading


_**My First Real Friend**_

Shy. That would be the first word that would come to mind if someone asked me what I was like when I was younger. Shy. That's why I didn't have a lot of friends. That's why my mum was never able to go anywhere adult-like because I always stuck to her like glue. So when I met a girl who did nothing but explore and talk to people that she had never known before like long lost friends, the whole world turned upside down for me and it was definitely for the better.

"I don't want to go". That was the childish remark I said when my dad told me about our holiday. Well, when I say holiday I mean my dad, my sister and I were going to England for a karate demonstration with my sister and I's karate group for a weekend. I now see how immature and selfish I was acting since on that same weekend my little sister was going to a sleep over at her friend's house so my mum could do be left alone for a couple of days. It was good for her as she did everything for us. It was the least I could do. But my little child's brain didn't see it like that. So the week before we went I was in a huff. It wasn't going to change anything, me acting grumpy, but I thought if I did this at the last possible second my parents would give in and let me stay home. Boy was I wrong.

The bus we were traveling in smelled like cat urine. That's the only way I can describe it. There were little brothers and sisters from the karate group who cried all the way there (which was two hours might I add) and if you looked out the window the only thing you saw was cows. Yeah a brilliant way to start my weekend off. During this exhilarating trip we stopped halfway to have a rest. The only restaurant there was a Burger King. The bus smelt ten times worse when we got back on it as now it also smelled like half the karate group had eaten a spicy curry. This was going to be great.

When we finally got to the complex where we were staying for the week I was less than awestruck. People kept saying to me that England was supposed to be beautiful. To be honest it looked the same as Scotland to me. The apartments were so tightly packed that I swore I could see them gasping for air. A bit stupid of me to think like that I know but the mind sees what it wants to see. Since it rained the day before we came, the grass smelled like mildew. Yeah, beautiful. I could see it more every minute. When I asked my mum about what she was doing when me, my dad and my sister were trudging through wet grass with a bunch of idiots already asking to go home (especially me the numb skull that I was) she said she was in her bed with two slices of mothers plain bread toasted and a warm cup of coffee while watching You've Been Framed. Oh how I wish I was there stuffing myself like I was a starved slave from the east and laughing at old people hurting themselves. Sadly beggars can't be choosers. I was freezing in my karate uniform doing a stupid demonstration trying my hardest to get the belt above mine. Halfway through we had to sit back down and watch another karate group do theirs.

When I sat on a wooden bench a girl, about the same age as me sat down right next to me. She looked at me and said "Hello" and I said "Hi" back. She told me her name was Isabelle Munter. Then she started to ask where I was from and what I liked and things like that. I hoped she would stop but in politeness I answered all her questions. When I look back on this moment I'm glad she didn't stop talking because if she did she wouldn't have been my dear friend that she is now. When I started to really listen to what she kept going on about, I was fascinated. Her insight of the world astounded me and made me want to listen to more of what she had to say.

During this week we sat next to each other and had dinner together. One of the best pizzas I ever ate. While eating my pizza, Isabelle and I talked about how it was where we were at. She told me she came from a different part of England. A place that, sadly, I cannot remember. After we finished eating and packed our bags to go home, I finally realised that I didn't want to go home yet. I didn't want to leave the old apartments where the beds felt like you were sleeping on rocks. I didn't want to leave the place where we had to wake up early and trudge through wet grass in a karate uniform (which looked just like a house coat) and I didn't want to leave the pizza place because, well because that would mean that I would have to leave Isabelle. I would have to leave the person I bonded so closely with in a matter of hours. That would mean I would have to leave my best friend.

Now I knew how Siamese twins felt when being separated from a person that they knew all their life, the person they spent every waking hour with, the person they did everything with. And so to fix the problem I was having in my heart I gave her a hug, gave her my email and said I would see her soon. Even today I talk to her about what's been happening in my life and asking what's been happening in hers. I also thank her for being my first real friend.


End file.
